Deja Vu to the Third Power
by Miandra Neves
Summary: SPOILER ALERT!This is the sequel to We Didn't Start the Fire... When two new girls show up at Chris and Wyatt's high school, one of the girls seems to already know Chris, though no one is sure how...


**Title**: Déjà Vu to the Third Power

**Author(s):** Miandra Neves with a guest appearance by alienangel19852003.

**Disclaimer:** We do not own Charmed or any of its characters. I (Miandra) do own Gina, Chera, Jenna, and Thomas McKissack. Alienangel19852003 owns Preston and her other original characters in this fic.

**Author's Note:** Okay, for those of you who didn't know, this is the sequel to "We Didn't Start the Fire." THERE ARE SPOILERS (or there will be eventually). Gina is Cilla's reincarnation. For those of you who are confused, it will be explained in the final chapter of WDStF.

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_**Chapter 1: First Days Are Always Shit**_

He was perfect. He was an older guy, that was for sure. Twenty-one, she'd guess. He had light brown and gorgeous green eyes. He was ideally fit.

She melted into him as he kissed her deeply. She whispered his name against his lips; though, she wasn't sure how she knew his name in the first place.

_Chris..._

The name suited him. She heard her name, but it wasn't the same name coming from his mouth.

_Regina..._

The voice that said his name definitely wasn't his. The voice was getting more feminine as it got louder.

_Regina!_

The voice grew more impatient as Chris faded away and a sharp pain came to her arm. That finally woke her up.

"Ow, Chera!" she snapped, rubbing the arm that her seventeen-year-old stepsister pinched rather brutally.

"Wake up, Regina! ...We're here," Chera said, crossing her arms.

It was bad enough that Gina was actually related to Chera by marriage, but that they both had blonde hair and blue eyes made it worse. Granted, Chera was a bleach blonde and her eyes were sky blue, and her own hair and eye colors were sunshine and ice blue; but people seemed to think that they were actual sisters than stepsisters. It bugged her to no end. Especially the fact that Chera was a raging bitch, and Chera's blatant Southern accent made her all the more annoying. That and the fact that Chera always called her by her full name.

"Yep, ladies," Gina's father said to her, Chera, and Chera's mother, Jenna, "We're in San Francisco."

"Finally," Jenna grumbled.

Gina sighed, "San Francisco... Great... What's in San Francisco anyway?"

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Chris groaned, "Everything is right here in San Francisco. Why would we ever wanna move?"

"Los Angeles is where we have to move if we wanna make it in the music biz," Wyatt argued.

"You just want a fresh crop of girls. You've already banged most of the ones around here..." Chris said.

"Fuck that son. I've banged just as many chicks in LA as here," Wyatt said, following his younger brother into the cafeteria.

"Excuse me, boys," a feminine Southern voice purred from behind the Halliwell brothers. Chris and Wyatt turned at the same time for their eyes to fall on a curvaceous blonde with sparkling blue eyes.

"Hi," Chris said with obvious interest.

"Hello Hottie," Wyatt said.

The girl giggled and gave them an engaging smile; "It's Chera, actually. I'm new here, and since you two look like y'all know your way around, I thought y'all could supply some advice. I don't know what's good to eat here, and I was wondrin if y'all had any suggestions."

"There are some huge decisions when it comes to the food at Baker High," Chris chuckled.

Wyatt laughed; "Excuse my brother. He's an asshole. My advice: Don't EVER eat the spaghetti."

"Oh? Well then, I'm glad I asked. Hope to se you again sometime," she said, her eyes meeting Wyatt's, and walking past them toward the lunch line. She made sure the sway of her hips accentuated exactly what it was supposed to.

"What an ass," Chris moaned.

"What a bitch, you mean," Wyatt said, rolling his eyes.

"Who cares if she's a bitch? Look at that girl."

"I see her. She doesn't meet my physical requirements," Wyatt said.

"Dude! She's perfect," Chris stated.

"Nah."

"Did you see those eyes?" Chris asked.

"No big deal. Gimme till Friday and I'll tell you all about it," Wyatt said.

"You're still going after her after I've already expressed interest in her?" Chris asked, slightly irked.

"I'm not going after her. It's just one of those things that'll just happen," Wyatt stated.

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"What a wonderful day this is..." Gina mumbled. It was her first day of school and she already had a stain on her new Bohemian skirt. She had a nice stack of books for her classes and had yet to find her locker. She jerked her head to the side to throw her long blonde braid back over her shoulder.

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Chris stomped out of the cafeteria with Wyatt close behind. It seemed he could never escape that mofo even if he went invisible.

"Chris, I'm sorry. That's just the way things are," Wyatt called.

"Wyatt, I don't care anymore," Chris stomped forward. He bumped into something; he didn't look to see what. He just continued on toward his class.

Gina gasped as her tower of books went crashing to the floor just before she did. She quickly pushed the end of her skirt from her thighs to back below her knees where it belonged.

Wyatt sighed; "Chris, you asshole." He bent down, grabbed the fallen girl by the wrists and pulled her to her feet.

"Thanks," Gina mumbled, scrambling to collect her books.

"I'm Wyatt..." he said, giving the sophomore girl the once-over.

"I'm Gina," she said, pushing her braid back over her shoulder, picking up her book stack.

"I'm sorry, my dick wad of a brother. He's mildly retarded," Wyatt said.

"It's all right. No harm done," she said pulling her schedule from one of her books, "Um...do you know how to get form room 127 form here?"

"I'll show you. My cousin Preston has class in there," Wyatt said, leading her down the hallway.

"Thank you so much. This school is a lot bigger than my old one."

"Baker? Big? Hardly," Wyatt scoffed.

"Trust me. Compared to Jefferson High, it's big," she said.

"Well, 127 is right down here," Wyatt said, pointing toward the door.

"Well, thanks. I appreciate it," she said, walking to the classroom.

"You are oh-so very welcome, Gina," Wyatt said with a smile that would bring any girl to her knees.

She nodded politely as she entered the empty classroom, and then she shuddered. She looked around and took a seat in the middle of the room, sitting her book tower on the floor.

"Exsqueeze me, but you're in my seat," said a brown-haired boy standing over her.

"Oh!" Gina started to stand, "I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone sat here," she said, narrowly missing her book tower.

"You can stay. I'll sit here. Quesha won't mind," he said, taking the seat next her.

"Oh...okay," she said sitting back down, "I'm Gina, by the way. Gina McKissack."

"I'm Preston Matthews-Halliwell," he said, throwing his scarf over his shoulder, "It's nice to meet you, Gina."

"Oh, you're Wyatt's cousin?" she asked.

"Yes, but not by choice."

"You two don't get along?"

"We get along great, actually. It just sucks sharing closet space with the fashion challenged."

Gina couldn't suppress the giggles that followed, "Wow. Okay, so. Is this a hard class?"

"It's French class," Preston said.

"Oh, yeah. It shouldn't be too hard then," she said, glancing toward the door. Her eyes widened when she saw **_him_** walking down the hallway. There was no way he was actually here. She had to be hallucinating. She leaned in her chair to keep him in sight. Sure he looked a few years younger than in her dreams, but she knew that face and body by heart. Preston might have said something, but she didn't hear it. Her many dreams of Chris replayed in her head as she continued to lean in her chair...until it slipped out from under her.

"Gina. Are you okay?" Preston asked after she hit the ground.

"I'm-I'm okay," she said, trying to collect herself as her cheeks burned crimson red, "This day just keeps getting better and better..." she muttered.

"Calm down, honey. You can't be so high strung," he said as other students started filing into the classroom.

"You don't understand. I've had a **horrible** day," Gina whispered to him, rubbing her warm cheeks.

"First days are always shit," Preston said sympathetically.

Gina snorted, "I've had plenty of first days...this one tops 'em all. Stain on my brand new skirt, somebody knocked me over in the hall, and I fell out of my chair," Gina sighed, "I'm not usually such a klutz."

"Well, you're entitled to two klutz days a year," Preston said with a smile.

Gina smiled as she pulled out a notebook and her French textbook out of her book pile, "I'm really glad I met you, Preston. You're really nice," she said as the teacher walked in the classroom and began speaking.

A few minutes into class, Preston gave a little yelp as something vibrated on his hip. He yanked his phone out of his tight, plaid, golf pants. He looked at the message. It read, "P3 emergency."

Preston quickly collected his books and excused himself. Gina watched him go with mild curiosity.


End file.
